


Good Morning, Good Morning

by skidmo



Series: Beatles 'verse [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skidmo/pseuds/skidmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a bit of fluff/smut set between Eight Days a Week and Ask Me Why</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Morning, Good Morning

When Ianto wakes up, Evan is still sleeping soundly, and Ianto takes a moment just to watch him. Sleep is the only time Evan looks truly relaxed, the only time he completely loses the sadness he still carries around his eyes. Smiling softly, Ianto brushes his fingers across Evan’s forehead and kisses him gently before getting up and walking down the hall to the toilet. He winces slightly as he walks, still sore from the night before.

Evan had been out with the team. It was fairly routine; a weevil had escaped and Jack had called Evan in to help track it down. Things had got ugly, as they often did, and when Evan came home, he’d been on an adrenaline high. Nights like that, Evan was always a little rougher than usual. Ianto didn’t mind. Evan needed it to settle down, and there were times when Ianto needed it just as badly. Something to help them come down from that high. Standing in front of the mirror, Ianto checks what skin he can see, taking in every purplish bruise, both to make sure he’ll be able to cover them and to revel in the feeling of being marked like that. He gets a little rush knowing that Evan wanted him so badly he’d let himself go completely, let himself lose the control he usually keeps so carefully.

He’s about to go wake Evan for work–he hates to, Evan is always so exhausted after nights like these–when he hears his phone ringing. He hurries back to the bedroom to answer it before it wakes Evan.

“Ianto Jones,” he says softly into the mouthpiece.

“Ianto! How’s the hubby this morning?”

Ianto rolls his eyes. Jack likes to mock his and Evan’s domesticity, but Ianto knows he really admires their ability to keep some semblance of a normal life together.

“He’s sleeping like a log, Jack. I was just about to wake him.”

“Hold off on that for a while. He went above and beyond last night. He deserves the rest.”

Ianto smiles. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be in in about an hour.”

“Don’t even think about it, Ianto.” His smirk is evident even over the phone. “Stay home and take care of him. You deserve the rest too.”

Ianto would normally protest that he was fine, but in reality, he wants to stay with Evan. It’s been far too long since they’ve had a day to spend together, just the two of them. “Thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure, Ianto. I’ll call you if I can’t find the takeout menus.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir,” Ianto says, trying not to smile as he closes his phone.

He looks over at Evan, still lying in the exact same position as he was when Ianto got up. He should get dressed, start some laundry, maybe make breakfast for them both. But Evan rarely gets to sleep as late as he likes, and Ianto rarely gets to just sit and enjoy being with him. So he crawls back into bed next to Evan, lies on his stomach and picks up the book he’s reading from the nightstand and waits for Evan to wake up.

He doesn’t have to wait long. He’s only got about ten pages in when he hears Evan start to shift a bit. He keeps reading, and soon Evan is snuggling up next to him, draping himself over Ianto’s back. He nuzzles into the back of Ianto’s neck.

“M’rnin’,” Evan mumbles into Ianto’s skin.

“Good morning, lazy bones.” Ianto nudges Evan with his hip and turns his head back to kiss his cheek.

Evan’s hair is sticking up at odd angles, and his eyes are puffy and sleep-swollen. Ianto loves the way Evan looks in the morning. Pillow-crease lines and all. “‘Tcha readin’?” Evan asks, placing soft, sleepy kisses across Ianto’s shoulder.

Ianto turns the book so Evan can read the cover. Evan peers blearily over his shoulder, and Ianto laughs. “It’s called _How the Irish Saved Civilisation_.”

Evan makes a sort of grunting noise. “Sounds int’r’sting.” He slides his hand down Ianto’s spine and rests it on Ianto’s arse. “Time’s it?” he asks, brushing his lips across the back of Ianto’s neck.

“Early still,” Ianto says, shivering a bit. “Jack called and gave us both the day off.”

“Nice’f him.”

“Mmm...yes. I thought so.” Evan is rubbing his nose in Ianto’s hair. “What would you like to do with the morning?” Ianto starts to close his book, but Evan stops him.

“No. Keep reading,” Evan says, kneading his fingers over the top of Ianto’s arse. He rubs his groin against Ianto’s hip, and the hardness Ianto feels there makes him smile wickedly.

“I don’t think you really want me to do that, love.”

Evan smiles into the skin on his shoulder. “No, really,” he says, the sleepiness just beginning to fade from his voice. “Read to me.”

“It’s not the sort of book you’d really enjoy, Ev.”

“Mmm...just wanna hear your voice.” His hand roams gently over Ianto’s back, up to his shoulders and down to his arse. He’s pressing lazy kisses all across Ianto’s shoulders.

Ianto sighs softly and clears his throat. “‘I have been quoting from the first scene of the Irish prose epic _Tain Bo Cuailnge, The Cattle Raid of Cooley_ ’,” Ianto begins, voice shaking a little when Evan’s teeth scrape over his shoulder blade.

“Don’t stop,” Evan growls softly, sliding his tongue down Ianto’s spine.

“‘There are several versions, none of them complete, the earliest dating to the eighth century.’” His breath catches as Evan’s tongue dips into the crevice of Ianto’s arse. “Evan...,” Ianto gasps.

“Keep reading.”

Ianto swallows hard. “‘This...this scene comes to us from a twelfth-century manuscript, translated masterfully from the ancient Irish poet Thomas Kinsella.’” Ianto struggles to keep his eyes on the book in his hands as Evan’s tongue circles his entrance. “‘The manuscript tradition, however, is based on’...Jesus, Evan.” Evan’s chuckle is somewhat muffled as he thrusts his tongue slowly into Ianto. “‘based on an earlier or...oral tradition that may go...go back to the time of...Christ!’ Oh, fuck.”

Evan pulls his tongue out long enough to say, “I don’t think that was in the book, babe,” before continuing his attentions, sliding a finger in alongside his tongue.

Ianto moans and starts rubbing himself against the sheets, desperate for the friction. He takes a moment to regain his composure before continuing. “‘And though we can hardly claim to have this royal conversation word for word, the oral-scribal tra...tradition witnesses that such...that such a conversation may well have been the...the impetus for...for the rest of the epic action of the...of the _Tain_.’”

Evan adds another finger and runs his tongue back up to Ianto’s back and along his spine. “Keep going, babe,” he says, dragging his lips and teeth over Ianto’s skin. He reaches over to the nightstand and pulls the lube out of the drawer. Ianto hears the snick of the cap as he returns his focus to the page in front of him.

“‘Medb calls for the...the chief messenger, Mac Roth, and...and asks where the match of Ailil’s bull might be...’ oh, god, ‘might be found.’ Fuck, Evan! Jesus Christ! Warm it up first.”

Evan chuckles and sucks on Ianto’s skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “Sorry,” he murmurs, now thrusting three fingers slowly in and out of Ianto.

“‘ “I know where to find...such a...a bull and be...better,” Mac Ro...Roth tells her, “in the...”’ Oh god, yes.” Ianto’s eyes drift shut and his hips buck as Evan curls his fingers inside him.

Evan’s laugh rumbles in his chest. “Keep reading,” he says, his voice husky and deep.

“I...fuck, Evan...I can’t.... Please...”

“Please what?”

Ianto presses back onto Evan’s fingers, moaning loudly. “Please...oh, god. Please fuck me.”

Ianto doesn’t have to look back at Evan to know he has an evil grin on his face. “Keep reading, and I’ll fuck you.”

“Christ, you’re going to kill me.” Ianto takes a moment to catch his breath while Evan slides his fingers out and rolls a condom over his cock. Ianto feels the heat of it at his entrance, and Evan pauses, holding himself still.

“Keep. Reading.” Ianto can hear the strain in Evan’s voice, knows it’s taking all his effort not to thrust into Ianto.

He takes a deep breath to steady himself and starts again. “‘ “...In the province of Ulster, in the territory of...’,” he groans as Evan slides slowly into him, “‘ “...in the territory of Cuailnge, in Da...Daire mac Fiachna’s hou...house.”’” His fingers grip the page so hard he’s afraid he might tear it. His hands are shaking and he can barely make out the words. Evan thrusts into him from behind, fingers gripping Ianto’s hips, teeth digging into his shoulder.

“Please...please...oh, fuck...Evan...please. I can’t...”

Evan reaches up and pulls the book out of his hands, tossing it to the side. His lips brush Ianto’s ear as he whispers, “Come for me, babe.... Need it.... Need to feel you.”

Ianto is throwing himself back onto Evan’s cock, pushed forward into the bed with every thrust, and when Evan catches Ianto’s ear in his teeth, Ianto lets out a strangled, “God, yes, fuck,” and shudders deep, feeling his orgasm wash through him from his toes to the top of his head.

He slumps forward onto the bed and Evan gives a few more thrusts before his body stiffens over Ianto and he collapses on top of him.

After a moment, Ianto pushes Evan off and drapes himself over Evan’s heaving chest, not so much kissing as moving his lips across every inch of skin he can reach without moving. Evan hums softly, trailing his fingers up Ianto’s back and carding them through his hair. “Remind me to thank Harkness when we go in tomorrow.”

Ianto blushes and hides his face in Evan’s chest, mortified at the idea of what Jack will think of that. “He thought you needed rest,” he mumbles, kissing Evan’s skin.

Evan chuckles and kisses Ianto’s hair. “If he wanted me to get rest, he wouldn’t have given you the day off too.”

Ianto rests his chin on Evan’s chest and looks up at him. “No, I don’t suppose he would’ve done,” he says smiling up at Evan.

“Wanna finish your book, now?”

Ianto’s grin is as evil as he knows how to make it. “Actually, I thought I might like to hear what you’ve been reading lately.”

 _  
_fin_   
_

**Author's Note:**

> The book Ianto is reading is _[How the Irish Saved Civilization](http://www.amazon.com/Irish-Saved-Civilization-Hinges-History/dp/0385418493/ref=pd_bbs_2/103-0441129-3226256?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1190271384&sr=1-2")_ by Thomas Cahill.


End file.
